


A pile of secrets

by Hashilavalamp



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anal Sex, Izuna tops, M/M, Virgin Tobirama, also obviously AU because Izuna is alive, also semi-public sex, yeah you read that right izuna is the one topping here :y
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 06:40:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5280548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hashilavalamp/pseuds/Hashilavalamp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tobirama and Izuna are both men who know the value of secrets. It's only natural. This is shared between them, and only them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A pile of secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thefairyprincev (QueenOfThePolarBears)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfThePolarBears/gifts).



> I feel deeply ashamed for writing this. I am really not experienced with writing smut, so I apologize deeply in advance. I hope you'll enjoy this though! ;u;  
> Dedicated to Thefairyprincev because they inspired this when we talked about our ridiculously complex AU.

It’s with a sigh and a certain sense of smugness that Izuna leans back on the desk and hears the tell-tale rustling of papers beneath him that tells him there’ll be wrinkles in them once this is done. Madara will want to know where those came from.

Izuna smirks against Tobirama’s lips. 

Madara would never be able to guess, and they’ll take this secret to their graves.

Izuna likes secrets. He thrives on them, as spymaster secrets are the material he works with, they are his goods and his payment. It’s his task in life to acquire every piece of information he can get, no matter how confidential, and in turn to guard the secrets of the Uchiha like his Sharingan.

But this secret is his own. His own to keep, his own to guard.

Ah, and Tobirama’s.

But Tobirama is, as strange as it sounds to himself, a kindred spirit in this regard.

There’s many things the Senju keeps from his brother, Izuna knows, just like he hides certain bits of information from his own sibling. What’s another secret to add to the pile?

(It’s the nature of this particular secret that fills Izuna with a thrill only the deadliest of secrets he has kept were capable of inspiring, and his body shivers.)

But, no more musing for now. Time for business.

The Uchiha sighs into the kiss once more and tightens his hold around Tobirama’s neck, drawing him ever closer to him, deepening the kiss until their teeth almost clash. For a second it seems as if the Senju is about to pull away, but Izuna won’t let him escape now. This is better than any dream he’s had, and there were many, and he will not let this opportunity go to waste. Who knows whether he’d get this far again if they were to stop now?

For a little while longer, Izuna is satisfied to continue lip-locking, enjoying the texture of Tobirama’s dry lips against his own, amused by the inexperience of the other. To someone like him, the slight hesitance to his movements, the stiffness, are glaringly obvious, no matter how hard Tobirama tries to mask it.

How endearing.

Tobirama learns quickly though.

If only he started—doing more than just that.

He already has Izuna down on the Hokage desk and despite the latter’s numerous attempts to get the Senju to move, to do something, no luck so far. His hands remain firmly resting on Izuna’s sides, just above the hips.

If only at least he’d move them underneath his shirt—

With a frustrated hiss, Izuna attempts to pull Tobirama ever closer with his legs he has wound around his middle, the sound morphing into a low groan at the much needed, blissful friction at the motion. The heart beating in his chest flutters like a trapped bird and liquid heat spills through his body, singing in his veins, coloring the skin of his cheeks a faint red with a flush.

Mhm, this is much more like it—

Above him, Tobirama stills in his movements and uses Izuna’s momentary distraction to pull back. Izuna is far too amused by the simply precious expression on Tobirama’s face – a perfect mixture of shock and pleasure, and perhaps a hint of delicious shame.

The narrow red eyes peer down at him almost inquisitive, an unspoken question in their depths, and in response Izuna’s lilting laughter rings out and he encouragingly tries to grind down against Tobirama’s hips, as much as his position allows.

It’s teasing; his Senju must be guided, it appears.

Realization flashes across Tobirama’s pale features and he briefly looks up, light pink dusting his cheeks as well, his eyes darting from side to side as if he were checking once more whether they are truly alone, as if he expected Hashirama or anyone to burst in and see them in a shameful position such as this.

But there is nobody there.

Hashirama will not come, he is too busy looking after a sick Madara, and the other shinobi know well to keep their distance to the Hokage office ever since Izuna and Tobirama took over the office together for the time being.

(but the possibility of “what if”, the danger, sends tingles down the Uchiha’s spine)

“Quit stalling” Izuna calls him out and bares his teeth in a teasing yet beckoning grin.

With one last glance around, the Senju sighs and complies with the demand, looking hilariously sourly as if he were annoyed that Izuna accused him of stalling; or more likely, annoyed that Izuna could see through him like this.

Izuna rewards him with a content hum once their lips are connected again, dragging out the note when he feels Tobirama’s hands wandering a little further down after all, grabbing him tightly, and finally rolls his hips, eliciting a delighted moan from Izuna. It’s still hesitant, not creating as much friction or pressure as Izuna would like it, but after the frustration, even this little bit already drives him up the wall.

Have patience and you’ll be rewarded, thinks Izuna.

To catch his breath, the Uchiha detaches his lips from the other, instead lightly brushing them against the red ears of his Senju, panting a little and grinning victoriously when Tobirama’s breath hitches just ever so slightly.  
Tobirama grows bolder with the sound of Izuna’s now heavier breathing right next to his sensitive ear, he gets surer in his movements, and Izuna is sure to egg him on with quiet appreciative noises; it has been a while since the Uchiha could enjoy such activities, his mind always straying and killing his appetite when the accursed Senju appeared in his thoughts.

But this is that very Senju with him now, the pleasure he receives is provided by that very Senju, and his thoughts have nowhere to run to, nothing to focus on but this, this moment, this connection.

As the other keeps grinding into him, Izuna has slightly lifted his upper body off the desk surface to suckle on the pale flesh of Tobirama’s neck, making sure to leave his glaring marks of proof, enjoying how the red blooms on the snow-white skin.

This is real, and even once they have left this office, even once Tobirama will attempt to forget about what is to transpire between them, there will be marks to remind him.

The thought stirs a wicked satisfaction within Izuna and heat pools low in his abdomen.

His hands have wandered to Tobirama’s chest, sneaking underneath the folds of fabric of Tobirama’s shirt, gliding his fingers across the fine crisscross of threads of the fishnet shirt underneath, travelling ever further down until he reaches the sash holding everything in place.

Tobirama shudders when Izuna removes his hands from beneath the fabric, grabs the sash and begins to untie it, until it is unceremoniously discarded with an uncaring flick of the wrist. The shirt falls open and Izuna does not even try to cover his mirth in the face of Tobirama’s embarrassment.

“What’s with the embarrassed face, hm?” he teases lightly, his grin growing wider as Tobirama once again leans back, out of reach, his gaze directed anywhere but him, his face scowling and scarlet.

“Shut up” barks Tobirama, awkwardly shrugging out of his top and pulling the fishnet shirt over his head, letting it fall to the ground with a look that tells Izuna that it bothers him to create a mess; how absurdly typical.

The Uchiha momentarily feels tempted to say “Make me”, though for a ridiculous moment, he suspects Tobirama would just walk out on him then.  
Tobirama is a killjoy like that.

Instead of responding then Izuna hums lightly, sitting up properly now and reluctantly releasing Tobirama from the hold of his legs. He traces his fingers up and down Tobirama’s upper body, delighting in the shivers he causes with this light touch and in the heat radiating off of the usually so cold Senju. With a sly smirk, he presses a little harder, scarping his nails across the skin to sensitize it and admiring the red streaks it leaves behind.

Red lines on pallid skin, and Izuna is mesmerized.

He hums in appreciation again when he reaches the other man’s toned stomach, feeling the muscles rippling underneath his touch, the twitch as Tobirama sucks in a slightly shaky breath. There’s no trail of white hair leading downwards from his navel, leaving Izuna oddly disappointed.

When he moves to slowly drag Tobirama’s pants down to reveal whether the curtains match the drapes after all, he is stopped.

“I can do that myself” spits out Tobirama, looking even more irked than he did before, his tense and awkward stance betraying how nervous he is about the ordeal, once again making Izuna forget about the throbbing in his nether regions that is really starting to become bothersome with how strangely endearing this is to him. A sudden, yet gentle warmth grows in his ribcage, spreading to the tips of his fingers, so different from the burning need coiling in his lower body.

This is more than the usual cute awkwardness of an inexperienced partner, that Izuna is already familiar with.

This is him who can get the ever so sure, ever so capable Tobirama Senju into this pathetic state, and if that is not an accomplishment he can pride himself on, then he doesn’t know what is.

(Because of course this feeling is pride.)

He watches intently and with the interest of a hungry bird of prey (and perhaps, some poorly masked amusement) as Tobirama’s unsure hands pull down the fabric of his pants, revealing more and more of the pale skin of his legs. Izuna’s full lips pull into a grin again and he notes with a flash of heat that an erection is straining against the cloth of Tobirama’s underwear. Looking up into Tobirama’s wine red eyes, Izuna drags his tongue over his bottom lip deliberately slow, and chuckles when the other swallows at the display.  
Izuna feels awfully powerful.

It is him perched on the desk, legs spread, and it is him who was moving underneath Tobirama mere moments ago and letting small moans escape, but the one controlling this situation is still him. The poor Senju dog just does whatever Izuna suggests, lets him touch him, lets him guide and undress him.  
Despite popular belief, Izuna very much relishes in power. Perhaps not as much as his brother, but he cannot deny the rush he gets from being in control.  
And if he’s quite honest with himself, having power over Tobirama Senju in this situation, turns him quite giddy and aroused.

He’s not sure he’s willing to wait much longer for what he desires; all plans about long drawn-out foreplay, about slow sex that will drive them both crazy, fly out of the window right there.  
As well as the plan of letting Tobirama top.

Usually he prefers to leave that position to the other partner if they are taller, and with Izuna’s unfortunately (damned) relatively short stature in a clan of taller than average men, that ends up being the case with many of his male partners; for this reason, he had imagined the very same for this encounter and had allowed to be pushed back on the desk, but in the light of Tobirama’s complete inexperience (as amusing and endearing as it may be) and his own needs… he simply has no patience for it now.  
Damn rewards, or whatever.

With a quiet laugh he hooks his finger around the string of the fundoshi hiding Tobirama’s member from him, volume of his laughter rising when Tobirama swats his hand away.

With surprising forcefulness, Tobirama unclasps the belt Izuna wears and simply drops it before trying to pull a surprised Izuna’s tunic off. The Uchiha isn’t sure where this is coming from (though if he were inclined to bet, he’d say Tobirama is trying to shift the focus from himself), but will certainly not complain about this. A little bit of passion is just as, if not more arousing, than his shyness.

Again his heart flutters in his chest.

Izuna’ trousers follow his tunic and belt to the ground quickly, but Tobirama hesitates once again when he has the other down to his underwear. It’s a pattern, a pause between every step of the way, as if his mind were considering the next best strategic step, or retreat. Best to not even let it come to this.  
To distract his oh so nervous Senju, Izuna reaches out and quickly lets his hands trail across Tobirama’s torso, carefully scraping over hardening nipples, memorizing each dip and every straining muscle under his touch. Even if this is further delaying the action.

It takes a few seconds until Tobirama’s tense posture relaxes a little and Izuna is taken by surprise and stops in his ministrations when the man begins to reciprocate with light tentative touches. Izuna sucks in a sharp breath when Tobirama brushes his thumb over his nipple, a jolt of electricity running through him.

But what gets him more than this sensation, what makes his breath hitch and his insides constrict delightfully, is Tobirama’s expression. He’s focused, as always when presented with a challenge, and there is a pleased smirk pulling at his lips, a more confident glint in his eyes.

Oh that bastard!  
Did Izuna think shy Tobirama is cute? Because then confident Tobirama is dangerously attractive.

Izuna in a fluid motion gets off the desk, pushes Tobirama back a little and drags him back down for a hungry kiss that lacks the clumsiness and sense of discovery that their previous kisses held, all crushed under burning desire.

When they part, a string of saliva is still connecting them, and Izuna smirks before he forcefully turns them around so that now it is Tobirama whose back is turned to the desk.

“What the-“ exclaims the confused Senju at this sudden change, his eyes narrowing in suspicion and obviously searching Izuna’s face for any hint as to what he is planning.

The Uchiha puts his hands on his hips and grins up to Tobirama. “Lie back on the desk, Senju” he commands in the tone he uses for his subordinates, resisting the urge to chuckle when defiance flashes across the other’s features at this order.

Tobirama shakes his head, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. “No. I’m not doing that, Izuna. No way in hell.”

As was to be expected, but Izuna knows which words he has to say in order to make Tobirama see. He has a silver tongue. It’s what the gods gifted him with when they made Madara the stronger one of them.

Though perhaps it doesn’t even take that much.

“Think about it, Senju. You do not have any experience in this, and this is hardly the time for trial and error, now is it? You know that wouldn’t end well.  
View this as a training exercise, if you will. I will show you just how to do this.”  
The last words he whispers as he stands so close to Tobirama that they are touching and Izuna knows that he has won when he senses Tobirama’s manhood twitching under the restricting fundoshi.

But to underline his words, Izuna puts his arms around Tobirama’s broad back, dragging his nails across the skin and kisses the side of his neck.  
Izuna lets his hands fall lower to Tobirama’s behind, and cheekily squeezes the flesh.

Tobirama surrenders with a sigh.

“Alright.”

“Don’t sound like I am sending you out to die.”

The Uchiha nibbles on the junction of neck and shoulder one last time and presents Tobirama his most lascivious smile as he steps over to the pile of clothing and bends over, searching for the belt Tobirama so rudely discarded.

He triumphs when he finally finds it under his tunic, and he immediately goes for the small pouch attached to it in which he keeps a vial of oil. He’s been prepared for an event like this for too long, he realizes as his heart pounds in his chest in anticipation at the contact of his hot skin with the cool glass.

He grabs the vial and worries his bottom lip between his teeth to keep himself under control. He can feel his own chakra swirling just behind his eyes at the excitement, and he cannot afford to activate his Sharingan now.  
He knows of Tobirama’s fears.

His deep-set fear of his blood.

Izuna straightens up when he’s sure his chakra is not going to spiral out of control and when he’s swallowed the memories and bitterness.

When he faces Tobirama again, he is already seated on the desk, at the very edge. He is hunched over a little, gripping the edge of the desk so tightly that his knuckles show, legs slightly parted, and his eyes are cast down despite the determined expression on his handsome face.

He’s also completely naked now.

(Tobirama actually took the time to put the documents littered on the desk on the ground to prevent further damage to them. Killjoy!)

Izuna’s next breath comes out shaky at the sight.

(The curtains do match the drapes)

In an instant, he’s in front of Tobirama and takes a moment to let his eye roam across the bare body before him, feeling his own need throb in his veins almost painfully, suddenly overcome with the barely suppressed desire for this man and all the complicated emotions he triggers in his heart. It’s amazing how this Senju, without even knowing, can wreck such havoc in his mind.  
It’s a little scary, really.

But no more thinking about feelings that don’t make sense and Senju who have too much power over him.

Izuna squeezes himself in-between Tobirama’s legs and allows himself another moment of gentleness as he cards his free hand through Tobirama’s soft hair. Like the fur of a snow fox, Izuna thinks, that is fitting.

Tobirama straightens his back a little and frowns at him, the menacing look he’s giving him contradicted by the red tint of his cheeks.

“Hold this” Izuna tells him with a voice that sounds a lot steadier than he actually feels and hands the vial to Tobirama, who eyes it with a combination of suspicion and fascination.

Before the Senju can ask what Izuna intends to do with this, the shorter man presses his lips against Tobirama’s, noting how easily Tobirama responds to it now and relishing in it; there’s hints of hesitation still, but it’s so insignificant now.

Without a warning, he wraps the hand that isn’t still softly pulling at the white hair firmly around the base of Tobirama’s erection. Tobirama gasps into the kiss at the unexpected and bold touch, the noise almost inaudible but Izuna still catches it.

With the hand buried in Tobirama’s hair he keeps him in place as he places kisses and gentle bites along his jaw, the other lazily stroking Tobirama’s hardening length with practiced ease. Under his expert touch, Tobirama shivers and his breathing is becoming heavier with each stroke, every pump, as he struggles to keep back small noises.

When Izuna is sure that Tobirama has gotten enough of a taste of the pleasure he has in store for him, he ceases his movements, lets go and finally frees himself of his underwear, sighing in relief now that his own member is no longer straining against rough fabric.

As someone who is not doing this for the first time and who is long past shame, Izuna allows Tobirama a good view at his arousal. Tobirama swallows again as if there’s something stuck in his throat, but he stays passive this time. It’s a shame, really, but Izuna didn’t expect more. Maybe next time?

If  
there’s gonna be a next time, that is..

(It’s what he hopes. That is why he doesn’t suck Tobirama off; he wants to have more in store, just in case.)

Don’t think about it.

“Give me back the vial.”

Tobirama frowns again and looks at the vial he’s clutching in his hand, not yet giving it to the increasingly impatient Izuna. “What are you going to do, exactly?” he questions, his tone oddly neutral. Questions come easy to Tobirama, he likes to understand things, to the point that he seems to briefly forget that this will involve him.

“The oil will ease the way, obviously. Wouldn’t want it to hurt” explains Izuna, trying to not be too mocking because isn’t hurting each other all they’ve ever done?, and stretches out his right hand. “All you need to do is lie back and focus on my voice. Understood?”

Tobirama seems to consider this for a moment longer, still skeptical after they’ve come this far. Izuna bates his breath, but his Senju eventually nods and lets him have the vial. He’s trembling a little as he lowers himself on the flat surface, his actions going against any instinct his profession has instilled in him.  
Surrendering himself to the enemy.

Enthusiastically, now that he is so close to the goal, Izuna removes the cap sealing the vessel shut and carefully spreads the oil over his slightly shaking fingers because he can no longer say he is calm and collected, and slicks up his cock as well. He moans at the long-desired touch, pleasure starting to flood his senses and perhaps he takes more time touching himself than is necessary for the task.

He’s back on track soon enough, hooking his left arm under Tobirama’s leg to lift it up. He feels the muscles in it tense as Tobirama’s hands are balled into fists at his sides, so he raises it high enough for him to kiss the inside of it.  
He makes soothing noises to calm his terribly nervous Senju, distracting him with the kisses on his smooth skin as he taps Tobirama’s other leg once to signal that he should lift it a little as well. Tobirama complies and holds his breath, anticipating.

Izuna contemplates asking if he’s okay, but that would be out of character for him. He knows Tobirama, if he were against this, he would stop this immediately, no questions needed.

Izuna nudges his legs a little further apart and pushes his oil-slicken fingers between the cheeks until they’re lightly pressing against Tobirama’s entrance. Instantly, Tobirama goes rigid and Izuna quickly attempts to calm him, whispering nonsensical words of comfort, mixed with some insults that he hopes will motivate his Senju, until Tobirama tells him to shut up and gradually relaxes.  
Izuna continues to only carefully prod his entrance, not wanting the difficult Senju to tense up again and ruin this, he must be an attentive lover today. That’s fine, Izuna can do that, no matter how weird it feels to be doing this for Tobirama of all people.  
He wonders how his younger self would have felt about this.

For a second this feels unreal, even as he pushes the first finger inside and Tobirama makes a noise of complaint and the words of encouragement spill from his lips again.

It’s slow work, stretching Tobirama and keeping him calm at the same time. Izuna remembers his first time quite well, so his impatience is kept at bay by his sympathy.

It helps that slowly but surely, Tobirama is reacting to the touch as he should. The quiet curses ebb away and after a while, Izuna realizes that Tobirama is suppressing moans. The fire in his belly is rekindled on the spot like a wild fire that sets his mind aflame. The surge of arousal leaves him triumphant and lightheaded, and he crooks his fingers, pushes them in faster and deeper until he has coaxed a low groan from Tobirama and almost lets out a noise himself in response.

The time has come.

No more waiting now. Izuna removes his fingers and instead firmly gripping Tobirama’s hips as he positions himself, taking a second to smirk at the fact that not too long ago, their positions had been reversed. Oh how the tables have turned!

Izuna shudders as a slowly pushes himself inside and it is  
pure bliss.

He’s forgotten just how fantastic this feels and he suspects that the fact that this is Tobirama has something to do with the additional pleasure. After all, he was quite the challenge, and it has paid off. This friction and pressure around his member feels simply fantastic.

Izuna leans over Tobirama until their chests are almost touching and takes in the details of the Senju’s face. The white hair Izuna admired earlier is plastered to his sweaty forehead, the skin glows in the sunlight filtering through a window, illuminating the faint red spreading across his cheeks and the back of his neck. His face is tilted to the side, these startling red eyes wide open and unfocused, only briefly flickering over to meet Izuna’s inquisitive gaze. He has that nearly shy, embarrassed look again, the one that makes Tobirama look cute even now.

Izuna uses the short pause he gives Tobirama to allow him to adjust to try and commit this sight to his memory, trying to burn it into his memory the way the Sharingan has etched images of Tobirama covered in blood into his mind.

His body screams at him to move, to cause more of this beautiful friction, to finally find this release and free him of this ache in his nether regions that has persisted ever since Tobirama pressed him down on that very table, and Izuna is all too happy to comply with his body’s demands when Tobirama moves his hips a little, indicating that he may move now.

Izuna kisses Tobirama’s collar bone and then begins to gyrate his hips, breathing out a sigh at the waves of pleasure and he thinks that if he grabs Tobirama’s hips any tighter, he’ll leave bruises. Hopefully he does. More marks to remind Tobirama.

But now Tobirama apparently feels like he must inflict the same on Izuna because suddenly his blunt nails are digging into the pale skin of his own back and it causes him to groan loudly, make the pleasure coursing through him known.

Soon the air is filled with the their pants, Izuna’s uninhibited moans and gasps, the sound of their bodies meeting as skin makes contact with skin. And once again Izuna remembers that this is their shared secret, the unfulfilled dream of lonely months, and the thrill makes him dizzy and he thrusts in deeper, the pleasure mounting and coiling in his lower body.

His whole body thrums with the euphoria of the act and his hand wanders from Tobirama’s hips to his length that is nearly trapped between their bodies and rubs his thumb over the slit at its head where beads of precum have formed.  
They are both close, close to tumbling down that precipice together, and Izuna hasn’t wanted anything this badly in a long time.

“Tobirama” Izuna calls out, studying the other’s features; Tobirama’s eyes are screwed shut, his teeth splitting his dry lips open as he holds back any incriminating noises, and as beautiful as the sight is and as much as the Uchiha desires to taste the blood, lick it off and taste the salt of the sweaty skin and the metallic tang of blood, this just won’t do.

“What are you, a dead fish? Open your mouth, Tobirama. Make some noise, will you?” he mocks, his own voice unsteady and more gasping than talking; he isn’t sure mocking is the right way here, but that is how they communicate, it would feel weird to try and change that.

Tobirama opens his eyes only to send a fierce glare his way and lets out a single, breathy moan. Izuna underestimated the effect Tobirama’s voice would have on him, entirely, his chakra is on the verge of getting out of control at the burning needs searing in his flesh.

His movements take on a hurried, desperate nature as he seeks to bring them both to completion, the goal that is so close, so he grinds into Tobirama as if his life depended on it and pulls on Tobirama’s straining erection because damn it, he can’t afford to come before Tobirama.

His moans reach a new pitch and volume, but he only hears the blood rushing in his ears and his heart beating furiously in his chest.

And then finally, finally a long drawn-out groan rings out from underneath him and he feels Tobirama’s ejaculate on his hand and both their chests. For a second, Izuna sees the world through the lens of his Sharingan, each detail clear and sharp in his mind as this moment is immortalized in his mind palace, because he cannot help it, he cannot keep this overload of feelings dammed.  
The next moment, he lets himself go, gives in to sensations overriding his senses. he throws his head back as a loud moan from deep within leaves his throat, spilling his seed deep inside and keeping his hips moving, trying to milk every last bit of pleasure from this.

His body feels incredibly weak after this exertion, as if he had just dragged himself through a grueling training session. But as exhausted as he feels, there’s a bone-deep satisfaction settling, a heavy fog clouding his tired and confused mind. Despite himself, he smiles at Tobirama.

All rivalry, all hatred between them aside, this moment between them feels incredibly peaceful after having shared this scandalous delight. Nobody but them will know.

It’s their secret to keep, just another secret on the pile.

Or something.

Izuna’s mind is too sluggish to contemplate the ramifications of this.

Eventually, Tobirama harshly pushes him off.

He refuses to look at him or utter a word about what has transpired. He walks over to the pile of their clothes, his gait a little strange, and dresses in silence as Izuna stands besides the desk, not sure what he’s feeling.

Something in his chest aches at how dismissive Tobirama is, even though he didn’t think it would be different. Why does it hurt then, if he knew better?  
The pain is only soothed when he makes out the marks he has left on Tobirama’s skin before the cloth hides it from his view. A self-satisfied smile makes its way onto his face and as his Senju passes him on his way out the door, he says

“Next time, we can do it the other way around. Just tell me when.”

Tobirama pauses in his steps, contemplating, and then pulls the door close behind him, leaving Izuna behind naked and alone.

He’ll just  
have to hope.


End file.
